


Give it Your All!

by ShanaRHager



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: M/M, My OTP, Sequel, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9670301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanaRHager/pseuds/ShanaRHager
Summary: Sequel to I'm Looking For A Challenge.  Ryu and Luigi enjoy Round Two, if you know what I mean.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WriterOfWorlds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterOfWorlds/gifts).



              Why is it that he, a hardened, seasoned Street Fighter, can grow weak in the knees at the sight of a common plumber?

              He looks at him and feels an electric _zing_ run through his nerves.  His heart starts to pump blood faster and harder.  He feels his adrenal glands activating.  He feels his head start to spin.  A smokescreen descends upon him, blocking out all else except for that plumber.

              He doesn’t care if he drowns in those blue eyes.  He won’t mind if the soft voice with the lilting accent leads him astray.  He’ll lose to him a thousand times over in their battles if it means seeing him, being with him—feeling him.

              Wanting him.

              His loins swell up just thinking about it.  He closes his eyes and remembers the day they met.  His promised battle against one of the Forever Twelve, the Smashers who’d been with this from the beginning.

              Suzaku Castle had been the agreed-upon stage.  A representative of the Forever Twelve the agreed-upon fighter.  The identity of that fighter had remained a secret until the moment he’d revealed himself.  Ryu had almost laughed.  The tall, lean, brown-haired, blue-eyed, green-clad plumber was his challenger.  But Ryu quickly learned that believing everything he heard about Luigi Mario was a big mistake.

              His intensity and aggression had been quiet and subtle.  He’d taken Ryu’s most crushing martial arts strikes and could still get up.  He’d evaded all three variations of Hadoken.  He’d even withstood the Shoryuken!  And he’d served up Shoryukens of his own—Shoryukens which were more powerful and harder to get.

              Then there was the flush to his face as he started giving Ryu more than he got.  The swiftness of his open hand stab.  The raw might of a Green Missile.  Strong, straight kicks.  Crisp leg sweeps.  The originality of his fighting style.  The way he got in close instead of shrink away.  Concentration working with other emotions to make their artwork on Luigi’s angular face.  The inferno in his blue eyes.  The sweat making lakes on his forehead and face.  His facial expression and the grace of his body as he took Focus Punches.  And as they really got into it—the wanderer’s body made contact with the plumber’s.

              When Luigi felled him with his down tilt and a down smash and then _straddled_ him—that did it for Ryu.  Soon, he was on top of Luigi, pinning him onto the stage, claiming his lips.  Luigi had melted into it at once, even prodding his tongue into Ryu’s mouth.  He made the most delightful moans as Ryu put his own tongue inside Luigi’s mouth and started probing and licking.  Tongue had clashed with tongue before the need for oxygen ended the game.  And that was when Ryu had suckled a nice patch of flesh on Luigi’s neck and the gloved hands started caressing his muscled body.  The karate _gi_ ripping, the overalls and shirt flying off, Luigi’s arousing gasps and his smell and the great shudder he gave as Ryu made the penetration.

              The moistness and heat of being inside Luigi—unforgettable.  Ryu had taken him passionately, bare flesh smacking together as the Street Fighter wasted no time finding his rhythm and thrusting so deeply that their pelvises touched.  Luigi had gasped at him to keep his green hat on, the shudders of his body continuing as Ryu’s tongue played across his flesh.  The plumber’s arms around him, holding him close, Ryu’s pecs skimming Luigi’s chest as he drove harder and harder inside him.  The shuddering increased, incoherent syllables leaping from Luigi’s lips, his pants slackening into deep sighs and the way he started talking dirty to him in Italian…

              And oh, the world had seemed to explode as Ryu unleashed his Shinku Hadoken inside of Luigi, leaving the latter gasping as he kissed him all over.  But before he knew it, Luigi had flipped them back over and was inside of him, thrusting at a steady pace.  And while he was moving inside of him, the plumber started doing something with his fingers, and then with his lips and then with his tongue, drawing them both back from the brink over and over, still whispering to him.  There had been lust in his eyes, unadulterated lust, as he licked and suckled and kissed and touched.  Ryu had seen the look on Luigi’s face as he emptied himself—he couldn’t quite forget his expression of pleasure.  Once he rode it out—Ryu didn’t know what true bliss was until that moment.  The man in green’s creativity had taken on a life of its own.

              Their first encounter had been so hot and so steamy.  The two of them naked on the stage, moving together and with each other, sweating, moaning, grunting and eventually yelling out ecstatically.  Hot jets of mushroom spores spurting everywhere, tongues tasting it as they licked it clean off bodies.  Relentlessly pistoning into each other and exploding again and again until together, they let loose with a Shin Shoryuken which completely depleted them.

              Not long has passed since that day.  Now, Luigi is all Ryu ever thinks about.  What is he doing?  What do the other Smashers think of him?  Is he still thinking about Ryu?

              Does he feel the same way _he_ does?

              The taste of the plumber lingers in Ryu’s mouth.  The taste of Luigi’s lips.  The taste of his tongue, his sweat, his blood from where his blows landed and the taste of his mushroomy juice.  The initial craving when he saw him standing there, smiling brightly at first and then growing completely serious as he put his fists up, a bit shaky at first, but gradually steadying.

              His fighting style and his attacks and his tenacity are like a fragrance, and he wants to claim that fragrance and put it in a bottle so he can wear it all day for the rest of his life.  Luigi had sent messages to him with his eyes, that he was nobody to trifle with just because he was a “shadow”.  And Ryu had gotten his message loud and clear.

              Ryu just can’t get enough of Luigi.  He wants another go at him…

 

              The slip of paper has no name on it.  Just this message: _You must defeat_ my _Shoryuken to stand a chance.  My mansion, 7p.m.  Don’t be late_.

              Not even fashionably?  That’s fine with Ryu.

              He wears his _gi_ a little looser this time, so if he gets—excited—then it won’t cause such discomfort.  He arrives at the mansion and is shocked about how spooky it looks, a spookier moon providing the backdrop.  A good battle stage, sure, but a place to live…?

              He’ll think about it later.  Now, he’s found who he’s looking for.

              Luigi’s standing there, wearing green and white, sleeves rolled up.  His eyes are smoldering into Ryu and leaving little to the imagination.  Ryu want to take him right then and there, just let him have it under the moon as he moans his name.  His groin begins to pulse, and it’s all he can do to bring it under control, especially when he glimpses a slight bulge in Luigi’s overall pants.

              “Glad you could make it,” Luigi says finally.  “I hope you’re ready for a fight.”

              “Oh, I am, little green one,” Ryu replies.  “Let’s see if your Shoryuken can compete with mine.”

              They stride toward each other and snap into their fighting stances.  Ryu sees the fibers and muscles in Luigi’s form at full attention.  The eyes are crystal and he still has some nerves, but the compressed lips indicate that he’s committed himself to this battle.  Luigi scrutinizes the cords, bulges and etchings of muscle on Ryu and contemplates how they’ll feel against his fists and later against his tenderly caressing hands as their bodies shed their clothing and weld together.  His shroom stands fully erect, but he blocks it out, just as Ryu does with his own tiny fighter.

              In the distance, a clock chimes.

              It’s a signal to them, and they’re immediately going at it.  Ryu’s not containing himself now as he lays ferocious strikes on his opponent, connecting with some and missing with some.  Luigi’s slamming away at Ryu’s bulky frame, his eyes snapping fiercely.  He jabs with his hand at Ryu’s abs.  He grabs him and throws him down, his rear slamming against Ryu’s body and then following him up in the air for a karate chop combo followed by the rest of his fury.  Hard blows pepper Ryu as Luigi spins himself round and round, and then sends his arms out and throws his head back.  And there’s a trickle of sweat racing down his slender neck, and his lips are slightly parted—his face is perfectly _pink_!

              Ryu pulls back and releases with his Focus Punch, and then strikes again as Luigi crumples.  Mouth open, eyes glazing.  Beautiful.  Red gloves sail in and assail the green-and-white clad body before him.  His heel speeds into a bulbous nose.  He attacks with his hard elbow repeatedly.  He punches and kicks straight, around, up and down.  And then his Shoryuken finds the base of the chin.

              Wow.  Look at him.  After all of that, Luigi’s still going strong and rough and relentless against Ryu.  His body blows continue to splinter away at the craggy climate that is Ryu’s muscles.   He charges forward with wild fists, which Ryu deflects and punishes with a vicious one to the face, snapping his head back.  He regains himself and seems to bounce forward, blasting harder than ever at Ryu’s face and body.  Grabbing and doing a combo, and then re-grabbing.  And finally, Ryu’s vision goes green as Luigi sends his own Shoryuken into him, and then pulls him to his feet for another one and then a few more before Ryu breaks away with a special inputted Shoryuken.

              They keep exchanging Shoryukens, silently daring the other to hit faster, better, harder.  In between this, they’re trading their Smash attacks or going body-to-body, Ryu’s hot skin against Luigi’s top, limbs clashing in a choreographed dance as bodies slide and twirl and whirl.  Heated breaths snap in their ears.  Hands and fingers fluttering before pouncing.  Ryu loves the way Luigi’s hands flow with the wind, having the precision of radar as they either clench into fists or are held straight out before dive-bombing his opponent.  His chin tilts up so he can glare into Ryu’s eyes and reinforce—this is real.

              You bet it is.

              Ryu’s fist swoops and plunges into Luigi’s stomach, and the other fist follows shortly thereafter.  Eyes fix hugely on him as his breaths bursts out, and then they glaze over.  Drool slips out of the wide-open mouth in reaction to the two-punch strike.  He bends over to tend to his tummy and Ryu once again sends his elbow into Luigi’s face, followed by several heavy punches.  Luigi does a flashy spin and kicks Ryu hard in the collarbone, pushing him away.  Ryu leaps back in with a kick and another hail of blows before Luigi smashes him relentlessly and launches his hand into his belly button.

              An eye for an eye.

              Now, Ryu’s backed up against a wall of the mansion.  Several more Super Jump Punches collide with him, followed by more blistering blows.  Ryu swings and lands a hook to the face, but Luigi recovers fast and returns the favor with a hook to the jaw.  The man sags against the wall, trying to reorient himself.  He feels another body pressing hard against him and the blue orbs flaring through him.

              A mouth, soft and wet and steamy, wraps around Ryu’s earlobe and sucks fervently.  After a while, it releases and travels down the neck, blotting, suckling and even nipping.  Ryu lets out a groan as Luigi grabs the lapels of his _gi_ and yanks him closer to him.  A gloved thumb traces a path to Ryu’s left pec and shamelessly rubs it.  The Street Fighter is weaker than water.  He remembers the feeling of their chests touching and wants it again.

              They tongue-kiss, wrapping their tongues around each other and sampling mouths.  Luigi pulls away first and opens Ryu’s _gi_ before placing his tongue on Ryu’s collarbone and starting to “draw” with it.  Light, feathery strokes with his tongue along every area of the wanderer’s upper body and sensuous flicks at the pecs.  Circles around the belly button and then back up through the center of the body to the neck.  He starts again, driving Ryu wild with wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere.

              The _gi_ falls away, and then Ryu goes in for the kill, snapping off Luigi’s overalls, yanking off his shirt and divesting him of the rest of his garments (except his cap).  Slowly, he works Luigi’s sensitive skin with his mouth, eliciting the most stimulating sounds, catching his arms and pinning them in the air.  Chest meets chest, belly meets belly, bodies in perfect symmetry.  Luigi’s skin goes tauter than a drum the moment Ryu sheathes himself inside of him.

              And he screams.

              He screams with ecstasy and desire as Ryu makes contact with all of the sensitive nerves inside of him.  He screams in encouragement to Ryu’s powerful thrusts.  He screams wildly in response to Ryu giving him a taste of his own medicine as he squiggles his tongue along his body.  And he screams because feeling Ryu deep in his being _means_ something—not just some wild battle-lust.

              “RYU!” he chants again and again.

              “Aaaaaah!” is all Ryu can say as he speeds up and grinds himself deeper into the man in green.  Sweat slicks their bodies, mingling together, artistic unions of nerves and flesh and muscle.  Rainbows swim before closed eyelids, and the warmth feels so good—they feel so secure in each other’s arms!

              And then they’re in the living room of the mansion—the hallway—the corridors—the master bedroom.  The door blows closed behind them.  Ryu has to stop himself from unraveling as soon as Luigi is on the soft bed under him, welcoming him, coated and splashed with sweat but dutifully holding his pleasure in till it becomes too much.

              The cries grow louder and louder.  Gloved fingers are all over Ryu.  He doesn’t know which way is up.  All he knows is Luigi, that man in green—he sees nothing, smells nothing, feels nothing, hears nothing and tastes nothing but Luigi.  He’s the reason Ryu knows he’s going to make it in Smash.  He really makes him feel comfortable—he’s the warmest and by far the most welcoming fighter on the roster.  And not because of this—it’s because he lights everything else up.  He speaks his mind.  He fights hard despite his fears.  He doesn’t care if he wins or loses—except when the opponent exhibits poor sportsmanship.  He’s not in it for glory like some other fighters.  He remains humble, no matter how good he is.

              Luigi writhes and screams more fervidly.  Ryu keeps pumping and pumping, feeling along Luigi’s hips and pulling them to meet his own hips.  Hips swiveling together, glued by some unseen force, and Ryu senses that Luigi is just as close as him to the finish line.

              Ryu’s eyes flash open, his lips breathing the plumber’s name as a final thrust opens the floodgates.  Luigi’s senses are nearly gone as Ryu fills and floods him.  He knows nothing except hips shuddering against waist and the jetting surges and that it’s on him as well as in him.  And as the flow grows more steady, Luigi lurches forward, spasms and whispers:

              “Ryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…”

              Luigi releases by liters and liters alongside Ryu.  They fill, they spurt, they spray—they create a marvelous mess easily cleaned by eager tongues.  Aftershocks wrack their bodies, and they continue to thrash arduously until they finally settle down, breathless, each knowing that being with the other is an adventure and an adrenaline rush.

              “Ohh…” breathes Luigi.  “Are we ever going to stop doing this?”

              Ryu brushes the other man’s hair aside.  “It’s safe to say that you’ve officially grown on me, L.”

              “Well,” says Luigi.  “I guess you’ve grown on me, too.  Battling you—it just gives me such a thrill…”

              “Yeah,” says Ryu.  “Same here.”

              He wonders how well Luigi will do as a Street Fighter, though…

 

               

 


End file.
